


let that mistake pass on

by guycecil



Series: if you stay, i'll be forgiven [1]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, Joui War, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4071103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guycecil/pseuds/guycecil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takasugi descends. Sakamoto is pointed skyward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let that mistake pass on

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for a friend! There are a few references to background Ginzura because I... can't help myself. I swear the focus is on Takasugi. The exact request was "shitty emo Takasugi being gay for Sakamoto". Title from Roads Untraveled by Linkin Park (because there... really isn't a better Takasugi band).
> 
> Side note, I know Shitsuke doesn't really work as a nickname in Japanese but... I like it too much to care.

Sakamoto’s leaving. He hasn’t said it, but everyone can feel it. It’s either that, or Takasugi’s just brooding.

Except that he _doesn’t_ brood, so it must be that Sakamoto’s leaving. He supposes it’s been building for a while – he’s always stared at the stars, but lately it’s been different, somehow. Less appreciation, more… yearning, he supposes, but that sounds ridiculous, so he doesn’t say it. Although he doesn’t say much of anything these days.

Their numbers have dwindled over recent months, a combination of deaths from the battles and deserters. Takasugi hates them, the ones who leave. They signed up for this – signed up for blood, for losing battles, and for death, not just for the winning and the glory. Takasugi won’t let himself fall to it, that temptation to run. But it still weighs on the four of them the most, and Sakamoto has always had the most tentative hold on this war.

They huddle around the fire, just the four of them. The cold is creeping in, the last traces of summer disappearing into fall and winter. The nights have been difficult lately. They have to cling to each other for warmth, and Takasugi hates it. He feels disgusting, and not just because they haven’t bathed in weeks. He doesn’t want people touching him.

Gintoki and Katsura are bickering over something, bent over their shared bowl – there aren’t enough rations to go around, and they’ve been splitting for weeks now. Gintoki shoves an elbow into Katsura’s ribs, and the other snaps something quietly back.

Takasugi tears his eyes away. He hates their closeness almost as much as he hates the heat he can feel radiating off of Sakamoto, who has snagged more than his fair share of their dinner. Takasugi doesn’t want to eat anyway.

“You should eat, Bakasugi,” Sakamoto says, elbowing him the same way Gintoki elbowed Katsura. It takes all of Takasugi’s strength not to rip his arm off.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, but he snatches the wooden bowl away from him. He knows how to take care of himself. He doesn’t need Sakamoto to tell him how to do it.

Still, Space Case leans back, stares up at the sky. “I’m gonna go up there one day,” he announces, loud enough that it should draw the attention of Gintoki and Katsura, but they’re too absorbed in their argument.

Takasugi wants to scream at the way he says it – like one day is tomorrow, not years from now. He can’t leave like the others. Takasugi will kill him before he gets the chance.

“Not yet, though,” Sakamoto sighs, and Takasugi hates the way the tension drains out of his body as fast as it came. “But one day.”

“Keep your head out of the stars until the next battle’s over,” Takasugi grunts, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Sakamoto giggles like a drunk teenager. “Aww, Bakasugi, would you miss me?” He leans up against Takasugi’s arm, and the heat is too much, too strong, and Takasugi wants to _kill_ him.

“Get the fuck off me,” he snarls, shoving him away. Sakamoto just laughs, the usual gleam in his eyes. Logically, Takasugi knows it’s just firelight, but it looks like starlight.

“You _would_ miss me,” Sakamoto accuses, singsong. “Aww, that’s so sweet!”

“Shut the _fuck_ up!” He wants to throw something at the asshole, but there’s nothing nearby except his katana, and he’s not going to waste his blade on some loser with his head in the stars.

Sakamoto giggles again and leans forward to rest his head on his palm. He grins. “It’s okay to admit it. I’d miss you, too. I’d even miss Zura and Kintoki.”

“I’ll miss you when you’re dead,” Takasugi says flatly. “When I put my sword through your stomach.”

“Oi, Shitsuke,” Gintoki barks suddenly, and Takasugi doesn’t _want_ to look over, but he does anyway. The asshole is looking at him with dead eyes, as usual. “Who’d win in a fight, me, or fifty of those assholes we fought last week?”

“Asinine question,” Takasugi snaps. “You’d die so fast we wouldn’t even have a chance to celebrate.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Gintoki snaps, and Katsura rolls his eyes to say _I told you so_ , and Sakamoto just laughs, and Takasugi hates it, but if he ever hears that laugh disappear, he doesn’t know what he’ll do.


End file.
